The Adventures of Hot Fudge and Halibut
by Sara Wolfe
Summary: Lois and Clark. Valentines' Day. Love potion. Sound familiar?


**Author's Note:** I know it's after Valentine's Day, but I wanted to post something fluffy, sappy, and downright happy for a change. Enjoy.

**The Adventures of Hot Fudge and Halibut**

"Lois! Lois, wait up!"

Lois turned to see Allison Cress, photojournalist for the Lifestyles section, hurrying toward her, pulling on her coat.

"Where's the fire?" Lois asked, as the other woman came to a stop in front of her desk.

"David just called, Jeremy's got chicken pox and I need to pick him up from the babysitter's, now, so the other kids don't catch it," she explained.

"If David called you, that means the babysitter called him, so why can't he pick up Jeremy?" Lois asked.

"That's what I asked!" Allison exclaimed. "But, no, he's busy, he can't possibly leave the office, and gee, honey, I know you're not doing much at work--and to top it all off, he forgot about Valentine's Day. No flowers, no candy, not even a freaking kiss!"

She broke off, clearly furious, and Lois was silent for a long minute. Then, she grinned as something occurred to her.

"What if he didn't forget about Valentine's Day?" she asked.

Allison frowned, confused, but then smiled as she got what Lois was hinting at.

"Oh, that sweet man," she said. "I take back everything bad I've been saying about him this last week."

At Lois's curious look, she elaborated, "He's been keeping me away from the kitchen, insisting that we order out all the time. I thought he broke my china and was too chicken to tell me."

"And he was just preparing to cook you a romantic meal on Valentine's Day," Lois finished for her.

"I love my husband," Allison said, happily.

"Good for you," Lois said. Then, as Allison grabbed her purse off Lois's desk and started to walk away, she called out, "Didn't you need to ask something? I know I'm a good listener, but I doubt you came over simply to bend my ear."

"Oh, right," Allison said. "I was going to ask you if you could cover my assignment for me."

"I don't work in Lifestyles," Lois reminded her.

"It's just a little piece," Allison told her. When Lois looked skeptical, she cajoled, "You don't really want to spoil the dinner David's making for me, do you?"

"Fine," Lois grumbled, good-naturedly.

"Great, here's the address," Allison enthused, pressing a card into her hand and dashing off.

Lois watched her go, an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. A feeling that only increased when she saw the name of a local nightclub on the card.

"Speed dating?" she read, aloud. "Allison, you so owe me for this."

**XXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXX**

Half an hour later found Lois standing in front of a garishly-decorated card table, hearts and Cupids everywhere the eye could see.

"I just need you to sign in, and here's your name tag."

Lois glared at the pink and white sticker, with "Hi, My Name is !!" emblazoned on the front in bright red, and then glared at the pimply-faced kid holding it out to her.

"You can't be serious," she growled at him.

"Every participant has to wear a name tag," the kid told her, stubbornly. "It's the rules."

Lois snatched it from his hand, scrawled 'Hot Fudge' on the line, and blacked out the overly-cheerful exclamation points before dumping the pen back on the sign-in desk and slapping the sticker on her chest.

"You're supposed to use your real name," the kid protested.

He shrank back at the glare Lois shot him, and muttered, "Or not. Your choice."

Lois stalked away from the table in a huff, but was brought up short when she slammed into someone heading the opposite way.

"Hey! Watch where you're going!" she snapped, only to find herself face-to-face with Clark's sheepish gaze.

"Smallville," she greeted, noticing with some amusement that his name tag proclaimed him to be 'Halibut'.

"Lois," he returned, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot.

"Stepping out on Little Suzie Homemaker?" she asked. "Never would have seen that coming."

"Lana and I are no longer together," Clark told her. "She moved out a couple of days ago."

"What was so bad that it broke up Eden?" Lois asked.

"Lana's not who I thought she was," Clark said. "Some of the things she's done-"

"Like knock one of your friends through a plate-glass window?" Lois asked, wryly.

"Exactly that," Clark said, surprising her with his seriousness. "Her actions, lately, have been inexcusable, and it shouldn't have taken me this long to realize it."

"Stop the presses, Clark Kent admits that Lana Lang isn't perfect," Lois joked. "Is there a full moon out, or something?"

"Go ahead," Clark said. "I deserve it. I was an idiot for not seeing the truth, sooner, and I'm sorry you got hurt because of it."

"It's not your fault that Lana was channeling her inner psychopath," Lois told him. "How could it be?"

Clark was saved from answering by the hostess of the event ringing a huge bell, gaining everyone's attention.

"Pick a table!" she called out. "Ladies, outside chairs, men, inside, you'll be the ones moving around."

"I still expect an answer, Smallville," Lois told him as she walked off to a table.

"Now," the hostess continued, cutting off any reply Clark might have made, "You'll each have six minutes to a table, make the most of them and make those love connections!"

She rang the bell, again, and Lois resigned herself to what was bound to be a long night.

**XXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXX**

Thirty minutes later, Lois had amended her initial assessment to excruciatingly long, and was ready to start tearing her hair out.

It wasn't that her 'dates' were weird or boring, or anything normal; that would have been preferable. No, they sat down at her table staring at their watches and tapping their feet impatiently until the bell rang, again, where they went on to repeat the process until they reached a certain table.

A table where none other than Lana Lang was holding court.

"It's disgusting, isn't it?" one of the women grumbled, dropping into the empty chair opposite Lois. "Every single guy here is fawning over that chick."

"I did not pay a hundred bucks to get ignored for three hours," someone else spoke up.

"What does she have that we don't?" a third added, plaintively.

"This," Clark said, from behind her.

Lois jumped in surprise, and then turned to face him, as he held out a small perfume bottle for her appraisal.

"I snagged this off Lana's table when she was flirting with her latest five-minute conquest, over there," Clark told her,

"Sarcasm and petty theft," Lois joked. "You're like a whole new man, Smallville."

"Does this look familiar?" he asked, pointing to the maker's mark on the bottom of the bottle.

"It's the same as on the lipstick from last year," Lois said, realization dawning. "You think that gypsy that dosed me is making love potions, again?"

"I think we should go talk to her," Clark replied.

Then, he stared in horror over Lois's shoulder as one of the women picked up the perfume bottle and sprayed a generous amount into the air. The smell was overwhelming, and Lois found herself gagging in disgust.

"What is in that stuff?" she gasped.

Clark ignored her in favor of edging slowly away from the women, who had turned, as one, and were staring, predatorily at him.

"You have really big hands," one of the women cooed, and Clark swallowed, hard.

"Um," he stammered, nervously.

"And big muscles," a second added. "I like a man with big muscles."

"Back off!" Lois barked, moving between Clark and the advancing horde.

In reply, the third woman shoved Lois, hard, slamming her back into Clark's chest. Clark instinctively grabbed her arms to steady her and moved them both back a few steps.

"Maybe we should get out of here," Clark muttered.

"Sounds like a good idea," Lois replied, still backing up slowly.

"On three?" Clark suggested.

"Screw three. Just run!" Lois hissed.

Clark nodded and they bolted for the door, Clark's pursuers hot on their heels. Clark, in the lead, darted down an alley outside the nightclub, Lois shoving at his back.

"Faster, Smallville, they're catching up!"

Clark obligingly sped up, with Lois grabbing him by the hand to ensure that they weren't separated. They kept running until they could no longer hear footsteps behind them, and then Lois slowed down, tugging Clark to a stop.

"I think we lost 'em," she said, breathlessly. Then, glaring at Clark, she added, "Why aren't you winded?"

"I go running a lot," Clark offered, weakly.

"_I_ go running a lot," Lois told him. "You'd have to be Marathon Man not to be winded. You're not even breathing hard."

"So, I think we should go track down that gypsy," Clark said, quickly changing the subject. "Her shop is down this way, I think."

So saying, he began to stride quickly down the sidewalk and Lois glared after him.

"You'll have to answer me, someday," she muttered.

A few blocks down the street, they entered a small shop, with "Star's Potions and Fortunes" painted on the window glass. The woman Lois remember getting the lipstick from smiled at them as they entered.

"Lois and Clark," she said, warmly. "I had a feeling I'd be seeing the two of you, today."

"We're here about a love potion you cooked up," Clark told her. "You made it into a perfume and sold it to a young woman."

"I remember the perfume, and the young woman," Star said. "She said she wanted to win back an old flame."

"From the few seconds I was over there, it smelled like Lana had taken a bath in the stuff," Clark admitted. "I didn't think anything about it at the time; just that it smelled really bad."

"You'd think every guy in the room panting after Her Pinkness would have been a clue," Lois said, dryly.

"Hey!" Clark interjected, hastily.

"Almost every guy," Lois corrected herself.

"What I don't get is why the guys' attentions didn't shift to you and the other women after you were sprayed with it," Clark said. "I mean, if just being in proximity to someone wearing the perfume is enough-"

"Is there something different about this young woman?" Star asked, interrupting him. "Something that none of the other women possess?"

"A moral compass like a yo-yo?" Lois suggested, and Clark shot her an exasperated look.

"You said that several women were sprayed as well?" Star asked. When Lois nodded, she continued, "And who did their attentions focus on?"

"Smallville was the oh-so-lucky recipient of that particular pack of piranhas," Lois said. "It's strange, though; I got hit with just as much of the perfume, but I'm not trying to molest Clark."

"This time, anyway," Clark muttered, and Lois elbowed him, hard.

Star was frowning intently at them, lost in thought, and then she snapped out of it, nodding decisively.

"I've got it," she declared. "You and this young woman must have been exposed to copious amounts of meteor rock in the past. Red meteor rock was the base for the perfume; it only makes sense that it would be attracted to any sort of concentration in your bloodstreams."

"Lana used to wear a necklace made of a piece of the meteor that killed her parents," Clark said.

"That's kind of creepy," Lois commented. "Okay, so we've got one answer. What about you, Smallville? Ever been affected by meteor radiation?"

"Um," Clark said, nervously.

"Oh, what am I talking about?" Lois interrupted, saving him from having to answer. "Half the town's been exposed to meteor radiation; it's practically an initiation for newcomers."

"There you have it," Star said, although she kept shooting Clark smug little looks that he wasn't entirely comfortable with interpreting. "All of your questions answered."

"Not all of them," Lois told her. "How in the world do we stop the ravening horde from coming after Clark, again, the minute we step out that door?"

"The effects of the perfume will wear off after twenty-four hours," Star told her.

"And we're going to shove Clark in a closet while I beat off his admirers with a stick?" Lois asked, dryly. "I don't think so; there's got to be another answer."

"I didn't create an antidote," Star said, apologetically.

"Why not?" Lois demanded. "You created one for the Lipstick from Hell, didn't you?"

"You used red meteor rock in the lipstick, too," Clark said. "Shouldn't the same stuff work for the perfume, as well?"

"Theoretically, yes," Star replied. "But I don't have any more."

"So make some!" Lois cried, exasperated. To Clark, she muttered, "It's like she doesn't even want to help us."

"I can make another dose of the original antidote," Star said, ignoring Lois's jibe. "But, it'll take me a couple of hours."

"We don't have a couple of hours," Clark said, nervously, pointing at the door.

Lois looked over and saw, to her horror, that Clark's stalkers had caught up to them, and were pounding at the locked door, trying to get in.

"We need to get out of here before one of them finds a rock," Clark said.

"Do you have a back door?" Lois asked Star, who gestured to a beaded curtain behind her.

"Through there," she told them. "I'll do what I can to slow them down."

"Thanks," Clark said, and they ducked through the curtain and out to the alley behind the store.

"Now, we've just got to-" Lois trailed off when she saw a shadow at the end of the alley.

"There he is!" one of the women yelled, pointing at Clark. "Get him!"

"Run!" Lois yelped, grabbing Clark's hand and pulling him down the alley.

"What is up with them?" Clark demanded, as they sprinted away from the women.

"They're obsessed with you," Lois told him.

"Aren't they ever going to give up?"

"Not until they get what they want!"

They reached a dead end, and Lois swore as they stared at the brick wall in front of them.

"What do we do now?" she demanded, frantically. "There's no way out and we can't go back."

Looking at the women advancing on them, one of them holding a short piece of pipe as a weapon, Clark had to agree with Lois.

"So, we'll go up," he told her.

Lois took a quick look at the buildings around them and shook her head.

"Not happening, Smallville," she said. "No fire escapes."

"We don't need a fire escape," Clark said, shooting her a grin.

Then, before Lois could say anything, he wrapped an arm around her waist and shoved off of the ground, launching them into the air. They came down on the roof of one of the buildings, and Lois gaped at him for a second before inexplicably tearing out of his grasp and running to the edge.

"I think we lost 'em, for now," Lois said, peering cautiously over the edge of the roof.

Only then did she turn around and take a good look at their surroundings.

"Not that I'm complaining, or anything, since we're away from the mob, but how, exactly, did we get up here?" Lois asked.

"I jumped?" Clark offered.

"Up a six-story building?" Lois said, wryly. "It's fine if you don't want to talk about it; I was just curious."

"I really did jump," Clark protested. Then, he paused as her words sank in. "I could say 'drop it' and you would?" he asked, doubtfully. "No questions, no pushing?"

"Hey, I have some secrets I've never told you," Lois told him. "Why would I expect you to spill your deepest and darkest on a whim?"

"Not everyone is that open-minded," Clark said, ruefully. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Lois replied. "And I hate to be a party pooper, but we're going to have to get off the roof, soon."

"Why?" Clark asked.

"In case those women get inside the building and find a stairwell leading up here," Lois explained.

"Over there, then?" Clark suggested, nodding at the roof of the next building.

Lois eyed the six-foot gap between the roofs and nodded.

"I feel like Bruce Willis," she admitted.

She took off at a dead run and leapt into the air, clearing the distance with ease. Clark landed beside her a second later.

"Bruce would never be able to pull off that skirt," he told her, solemnly, a grin creeping at the corners of his mouth.

"Cute, Smallville," Lois told him.

"And speaking of," Clark continued. "Why are you wearing a skirt, anyway?"

"Speed dating?" Lois reminded him. "That's why we're running for our lives, remember?"

"I just can't see you going to a speed dating night," Clark prompted. "At least not willingly."

"I'm filling in for a co-worker," Lois admitted. "She wanted Valentines' off, and I had nothing better to do, so I helped her out."

"That's funny," Clark said, "because I got a call from someone at The Planet telling me about the speed dating thing and how I should really check it out."

"Don't tell me we were set up, again," Lois said, with a groan.

"Looks like," Clark replied.

"When will people learn to mind their own business?" Lois asked, rhetorically.

"Maybe they just see something we don't," Clark suggested.

He was expecting another sarcastic response from Lois, and he was surprised when she shot him a look, a strange look on her face.

"Maybe," she admitted, almost too softly for him to hear. Then, louder, she added, "We can't stay up here, forever. Sooner or later, we're going to have to go back down there and take our chances with the mob."

"If there are no fire escapes-" Clark reminded her of her earlier comment.

"On that side of the building," Lois told him. "And, what, no offer to fly us down to the sidewalk?"

"I can't fly," Clark told her. "Not yet, anyway."

"You just love dropping these little hints when you know I'm not going to pump you for info, don't you?" Lois asked.

"Well, it is kind of fun," Clark told her, "now that I know you're not going to run screaming in terror."

"Fire escape is over here, smart alec," Lois said. "And you get to go first. That way, you can catch me if I fall."

Clark waited until he was already on the ladder before he spoke.

"Always," he said, and Lois was left staring in shock at his retreating form, before scrambling down after him.

"I don't see any of those women," he said, looking around, anxiously, as he held the ladder steady for her. "Maybe they just gave up and went home?"

"Not likely," Lois told him. "Until that perfume wears off, they're not going to be thinking about anything other than getting you. No matter what it takes."

No sooner had she spoken then the women in question walked by, and Lois hastily shoved Clark behind her, taking up a defensive stance. But the trio didn't even spare them a second look, and Lois and Clark stared after them in confusion.

"They looked real obsessed to me, Lois," Clark finally said.

"But, but that doesn't make sense, she said twenty-four hours," Lois sputtered.

"Fortunately, I had some of the antidote from last year lying around," Star said, from behind them, startling them both.

"You said you didn't have any!" Lois accused.

"I was mistaken," Star told them. "In any case, it is done. I sprayed them with the antidote and they are back to their normal selves. You're welcome."

"We wouldn't have even been in that situation if it wasn't for you," Clark told her.

Star simply flashed them her enigmatic smile, again, and disappeared down the street, leaving a very confused pair behind her. Lois started to speak several times, but couldn't seem to form a coherent response. Finally, she threw her hands up in the air and gave a frustrated huff.

"I give up," she snapped. "I just give up."

Whirling on her heel, she stomped down the street, in the direction of the nightclub.

"Would you really do that?" Clark asked, hurrying after her as she was walking down the sidewalk, to where she'd parked her car.

"Do what?" Lois asked.

"Beat my admirers off with a stick in defense of my honor?" Clark reminded her, fighting the grin that threatened to spread across his face.

"Don't laugh," Lois scolded him. "I don't kick butt for just anybody."

"Guess I'm pretty special, then, huh?" Clark teased.

"Yep," Lois said, absently, and then snapped her jaw shut, teeth clicking together as she realized what she'd just said.

"You're the only one who can fix the satellite dish, after all," she covered, quickly.

Clark nodded, slinging a companionable arm around her shoulders.

"What do you say we end this Valentine's Day in style?" he asked.

"_Die Hard_ marathon and Double Fudge Chunk?" Lois asked, a glint in her eyes.

"With chocolate and caramel sauce, and those little marshmallows," Clark prompted.

Lois considered his offer for a few seconds.

"I get the bigger spoon," she told him.

"Naturally," Clark replied, grinning.

"Race you to the car," Lois said. "Loser does the dishes."

"On three," Clark said, bracing himself for what was to come. "One, two, three-"

He'd barely gotten three past his lips when Lois took off like a shot, shoving at him as she went and making him stumble back a few steps. Laughing, he raced after her, but kept his speed enough in check that she tagged the car door first.

"Ha!" Lois crowed, dancing around him, teasingly.

"You win," Clark told her, good-naturedly. "And I'll even spring for the marshmallows and chocolate sauce."

"Sounds good to me," Lois told him, climbing into the driver's seat and slamming her door.

Clark followed, and as he was closing his own door, he spoke up.

"Hey, Lois? You remember when you said you'd accept Oliver even if he was from Mars?"


End file.
